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On the grey bank of the Joliba, dotted with the shells of giant oysters, women were drawing water in great gourds. Slaves were being driven along in single file by an overseer. Everyone carefully avoided looking at the priest, for it was never wise to get in the way of a master of Shaky. You never knew when he might be angry and unleash the forces that brought barrenness, violent death or epidemics. So Ziron met only with lowered eyelids, closed eyes, attitudes of furtiveness and fear. Every society produces its own regime of truth, that is, privileges statements that induce certain practices that perpetuate the conditions of its possibility and existence, to function as `true'. This means the ‘general politics’ of truth. In the end, we are judged, condemned, classified, determined in our undertakings, destined to a certain mode of living or dying, as a function of the true discourses which are the bearers of the specific effects of power. Serkan Eles was hurled headlong flaming into the ethereal sky. This is his first offering for Shango Records. These three tracks will hold your hand as you cross the road.
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